Live from Cape Town

Gone home.

2004-07-22T02:44:00.000+02:00

This blog now stands as just an archive of some of my times in Cape Town. There won't be any updates, unless I decide to post some pictures later, which is unlikely.

Sundries

2004-07-12T17:41:00.000+02:00

My weekend was great. This blog makes my time here look like it's all depressing and challenging, but sometimes it's just plain fun. Friday night some friends and I hosted a Shabbat dinner for about twenty five people. Yours truly made matzo ball soup and noodle kugel and roasted two chickens and fried up some blintzes. Be impressed. Then on Saturday I hiked up Table Mountain -- the big beautiful mountain that is the backdrop to this fine city -- and then I hiked back down. Saturday night we had a little BBQ/party at the hostel where we stay, and it was funny because our professors came and made it awkward for everyone, but hey -- the effort was cute. Sunday was the Jewish museum and Scrabble. A nice weekend, overall.
I've been following the developments in the States with the proposed Marriage Amendment, and I find it rather sickening. The fact that it's political suicide to support gay marriage is truly troubling. (The Vice President's daughter is a very outspoken lesbian, yet same sex marriage is a threat to the American family?? Whose family? The Cheneys?) It's especially interesting reading about this while I'm here, learning about -- among other things -- the very impressive South African Constitution. If I may quote section 9.3 of the Bill of Rights of the Republic of South Africa (the italics are my own):
The state may not unfairly discriminate directly or indirectly against anyone on one or more grounds, including race, gender, sex, pregnancy, marital status, ethnic or social origin, colour, sexual orientation, age, disability, religion, conscience, belief, culture, language, and birth.
Yep. Protection against discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation is enshrined in the South African Constitution (the only one in the world to have such a clause). Too bad the USA's Bill of Rights is not nearly so specific. But honestly -- using a Constitution to roll back rights is abominable, not to mention impractical.
I found out today that my Poverty & Development professor is planning on running for president of Zimbabwe in two terms. He's completely brilliant (not to mention charming, articulate, incredibly knowledgeable, and articulate). He's experiencing a lot of problems in Zimbabwe, where he uses his lectures at the University of Zimbabwe to openly criticize Mugabe's repressive government. Apparently Mugabe's government have made life very difficult for him and his family, and he's even been to jail a couple of times. It's actually pretty scary, since they say most people who try to run against Mugabe can expect to end up dead.
One of the interesting things I've noticed here is the surprisingly non-reciprocal relationship between African-American students and native African students. The African-Americans seem to align themselves with the black Africans, and often (but not always) view the white South Africans rather disdainfully. Contrariwise (love that word), the black Africans seem to see the white South Africans more as their fellow citizens, in a "we've all been through this together and have to heal" kind of way, while they look at African-Americans as Westernized foreigners, who have no understanding of their experience. They even seem to resent it sometimes when the African-Americans try to speak for them, as if they can relate. One of my friends, who is a black South African, said that while white America is conditioned to have a fear of black men (through media, etc), she is as well, since her only images of African-American men comes from crime shows, sensationalized news, and the like. Surprising, yet it makes sense.

Apartheid

2004-07-06T17:01:00.000+02:00

Last night we watched a documentary called Where Truth Lies. It follows the story of Gideon Niewout, one of the most feared security police in apartheid South Africa, and 22-year old student activist Siphiwo Mtimkulo, whom Niewout tortured and killed.

In 1995, South Africa tried to begin the process of healing through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) hearings. There were so many crimes committed under apartheid, and it was decided that the country could never move forward if so many crimes remained unknown and the perpetrators were left to go through the regular criminal justice system. Through the TRC hearings, apartheid-era perpetrators of crimes against humanity could receive amnesty if they confessed to the full details of the crimes and showed "genuine remorse." So many families of victims thought that knowing the truth of what happened to their family members was more important that retribution. People wanted to find it in themselves to forgive (but not forget) so that the new nation of South Africa could come together and move on.

Where Truth Lies followed just one TRC story. There were hundreds. People who were here at the time remember that the hearings were on TV twenty-four hours a day, for weeks and weeks. It was all you heard when you turned on the radio. So this was just one story. In the movie, Niewout talks about the completely inhumane torture of Mtimkulo. They beat him, poisoned him, interrogated him, humiliated him, and ultimately killed him, just for the peaceful protest of the apartheid regime. The movie also showed his mother, who through some incredible power has found it in her heart to forgive.

Niewout shows up at Mtimkulo's mother's house to apologize and beg forgiveness. Mtimkulo's mother calmly listens to his completely half-assed apology, in which he insincerely talks about serving his government loyally and later finding Jesus. He sounds way too defensive and unremorseful in general. She then tells him that it brings her so much joy that he has come finally to apologize, that she has waited so many years for this day. You want to shake her for letting him off so easy, after all the pain you can see her fighting, as she and her silent husband beside her both wring their hands in their laps. Then, Mtimkulo's son enters the picture.

His son was born after his death, and never knew his father. Because he blames Niewout for robbing him of a father for his whole life (understandably), he has more trouble "forgiving" than anyone else in the family, and fainted at the actual TRC hearing when the details of his father's torture were being described. So, just as Mtimkulo's mother is ready to shake Niewout's hand, Mtimkulo's son rushes onscreen and smashes a vase over Niewout's head, causing blood to pour down the side of his face. Niewout is fine, just a bit bruised. I'm not usually a proponent of violence, but I felt he only had begun to get what he deserved. After all, Mtimkulo was only one of his many, many victims. But ultimately, the TRC granted Niewout full amnesty for full disclosure.

After the movie, we all sat around and discussed it. I knew the conversation was going to be intense when one of the guys on my program tried to start off the dialogue. He's usually extremely composed and articulate, but as he began to speak, he started to cry, and apologized with: "I'm sorry. That man killed my uncle." The discussion pretty much went further down that road, with all of the South Africans having some unbelievable story to share. The people who are my age lived half their lives under apartheid, and no one forgets. No one can talk about it without being extremely emotional. By the end of the discussion, everyone was in tears, including the facilator, one of our program directors. It was intense -- the South Africans would say "hectic" -- but necessary.

Talking about it and relating experiences opens old wounds that have just begun to heal. Life under apartheid is one of the most difficult discussions to have with students here, because everyone needs to put it behind them to be able to live their daily lives, even if -- in some cases -- their daily lives are a constant reminder of past wrongs.

Numbers Game

2004-07-02T14:20:00.000+02:00

The more I learn about South Africa, the more difficult it is for me to understand. Today, while participating in an Idasa workshop, I heard some numbers that stuck with me.

South Africa considers the poverty line per person per month to be 450R, which is approximately $75. "Deep poverty" is 250R per person per month, which comes to around $40. In a country where unemployment rates oscillate between 40% and 60%, 75% of South African children live below the first poverty line, and over 50% live in "deep poverty."

This is so striking not because it makes South Africa unique among nations, but because it is among the richest African nations (possibly the richest?). The wealth is distributed so unevenly, and -- 10 years after the end of apartheid -- it's still divided mainly along racial lines. Despite the extremely high unemployment rates, if you're white and educated, a job shouldn't be too difficult to attain. I keep on being taken aback by how modern and Western some parts of Cape Town are, but I'm getting such a skewed vision of the city. It's no wonder crime is so high in a city where most people just don't have jobs, yet continue to watch their compatriots get richer and richer.

Langa Township

2004-06-26T19:43:00.000+02:00

Yesterday we went to a township. As I mentioned before, half the population of Cape Town lives in townships much like the one we saw. They are on the outskirts of the city, and during apartheid, many blacks were uprooted from their homes and forcibly moved into the townships. Even ten years after the end of apartheid, the population is still all-black, the unemployment rate hovers at around 85%, and the people living there -- for the most part -- are only getting poorer. Access to the most basic necessities -- like clean water -- is hard to come by.

When we first got there, it was rather unremarkable. The street was run down, the houses were small and poorly maintained, but it could have been any bad neighborhood in any American city. Our guide (just one of our group's leaders, who's done a lot of work in the townships) informed us that these were the first houses built. They were older, but that was just the entrance, just so people passing by would only see the good face of Langa. It was, he informed us, the township's very own "Beverly Hills." Many people living in the houses are doctors, lawyers, nurses, and professionals who just can't quite get out of the townships but are getting there.

As we moved deeper into the township, the extraordinary poverty became more apparent. There was garbage littering the streets, sickly-looking chickens crammed into coops, and the smell of feces in the air (there's no plumbing anywhere). Crumbling two-room structures -- "hostels" -- housed ten or more people. Dirty water flooded the streets from the (fairly mild) rain a couple days ago. The whole time, I couldn't shake the really uncomfortable feeling that we were invading people's privacy, walking through someone's backyard completely uninvited.

Beyond the area with the hostels, we reached the very edge of the township -- the poorest of the poor -- the shanty-town, also called a squatter camp. People there have put together shacks from bits of cardboard and metal.There are no roads. The areas are completely razed on a regular basis because of crossed electrical wires or a tipped candle (which the lack of electricity necessitates). We talked to a couple of the people walking around, but most of the kids (who were, as usual, the friendliest) spoke only Xhosa, so none of the Americans could talk to them.

When our group reconvened for a premature (in my opinion) "processing session," I think everyone felt emotionally drained. Most of the Americans had never seen anything like it before, and I think there was a lot of rich kid guilt going on. Some of the South Africans had grown up in townships, and thought it was completely weird (not to mention upsetting) to go back as a tourist to something they'd worked so hard to escape.

I commented that it felt so weird to just gawk, like the people living there were zoo animals or something. I would have felt better actually doing something, like getting people together to repair a house, or paint something, or help in the school. I got attacked for that sentiment, which apparently is a result of my bourgeois background which patronizingly assumes that people less fortunate than me want and/or need my help. I didn't get yelled at as much as the few ignoramuses who went around snapping photos of some of the township residents without even asking permission.

Anyway. It was emotionally draining, but I think we all agreed that it was important to see. While half of Cape Town is beautiful and cosmopolitan, it's important not to ignore the existence of the other half.

Robben Island

2004-06-20T14:40:00.000+02:00

Today we went to Robben Island, the Alcatraz-like prison where the apartheid government jailed dozens of political prisoners. Kids as young as thirteen and men as old as seventy were locked up on Robben Island just for attending a protest. Once there, they were beaten, forced to do hard labor, and often kept in solitary confinement. The found of the radical Pan-African conference was kept in a cell by himself and not allowed to speak or be spoken to for four years. When the Red Cross finally was allowed in, his vocal cords were nonfunctional and he was dying of lung cancer.

We saw the cell where Nelson Mandela was kept in solitary confinement for eighteen years, where he began writing what would become Long Walk to Freedom. (He was imprisoned for an additional eight years under different circumstances.)

One of the things that made Robben Island so different was that many prisoners were educated by others. Many began by teaching others to read and write, and some went on to earn multiple degrees. There was also the element of political organization and education within the prison. They guards didn't allow politcal discussions to occur, so they took place in the "bathroom" (a low-ceilinged cave) of the quarry where they worked. Many of the greatest leaders of the African National Congress (ANC - Mandela's party) came out of Robben Island.

Our guide, a former inmate himself, stressed that forgiveness was essential, not revenge. Many of the people who currently work on Robben Island live there also (there's even a small school), and our guide told us that two former prison guards are now among his best friends. Incredible.

Here we go now.

2004-06-19T18:27:00.000+02:00

So, I'm in Cape Town. Hard to believe. The trip took nearly twenty-four hours, but so far, it seems like it will be well worth it.

It's beautiful here. Mountains seem to be everywhere you look. I always catch sight of them between buildings, or at the end of streets.

My neighborhood, Observatory, is completely adorable. There are a bunch of cafes, restaurants, bars, shops, and of course an internet cafe. It's all very student-oriented and hip. It's small, but manageable.

We went into downtown Cape Town today (Long Street), led by two people who actually know the area. The architecture is so interesting -- it's definitely a mix of British, Dutch, and local flavor, just like Afrikaans. (Afrikaans was the official language of the apartheid government, which is actually sort of ironic, considering its origins. Early Dutch pioneers in the region stole it from their slaves' slang, mixed it with Dutch, and adopted it for themselves. There are still lots of signs all over the place in Afrikaans.) But anyway. Lots of buildings are painted really bright colors, and it's just a big mishmosh of stuff. One street will look very Western European, then all of a sudden the next block feels like Mexico.

The disparity between rich and poor here is something people talk about a lot. There are beggars everywhere, even (and perhaps especially) in the nice areas, and crime is a huge problem. One South African guy mentioned that it's no wonder, since a fraction of the city (mostly the white part) has camera phones (etc) while a large part of the city (many in the "Townships" or "Cape Flats") still don't even have running water.

But people from other countries in Africa (like Zimbabwe, which has an authoritarian government) still talk about how South Africa is the best country to live in in Africa in many ways. There is a democracy, which enshrines in its constitution rights which are denied to citizens of other African nations all the time. It's also the richest country in Africa, with many thanks to DeBeers, which is based here and generates a lot of business. (It's the tenth anniversary of the end of apartheid here, and DeBeers had an ad saying "A democracy is forever." I thought that was nice. I always liked those shadowy diamond commercials with classical music.)

Anyway. This is already getting too long, but I'm very excited to be here, and I'll try to update this as I can.

Home

2004-06-15T18:08:00.000+02:00

Still in NY. I leave tomorrow. But you knew that.